


Please Don't

by Moonshoes_Potter



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Charles is tortured, Erik to the rescue yay, Gore, M/M, PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshoes_Potter/pseuds/Moonshoes_Potter
Summary: Charles is missing, and the X-Men must seek out the help of the only person who can help: Erik Lehnsherr.~~~~~Sup! This is a prequel to @cherik-trash-pile's ficlet on tumblr about Charles dealing with PTSD from being tortured. So I've come to tell the story! Hope you enjoy!





	Please Don't

It was a peaceful morning at Xavier’s school. Most children were at home for the spring holidays, and the few that stayed enjoyed sleeping in. Aside from Ororo, who always woke up early. When she noticed the professor wasn't in the kitchen making tea, she went into his room to check on him. 

Jean was reading a book on her bed when Ororo ran into her room, looking frantic. She was holding two photos. One was of Professor Xavier, chained up and bloody. The other was a building neither woman recognized. There were two words scrawled on the back of it: “Get Lehnsherr.”

~~~~~

The last thing Charles remembered was waking up to a tapping on his window. Then he was unconscious. 

When he woke again, he was in a cold, dank room. All clothes but his trousers had been removed and he had plastic wrist cuffs chaining him to the brick wall he was resting on. When he opened his eyes, he saw he was in a prison cell. A guard was posted outside the door. For whatever reason, Charles couldn't reach her mind to let himself out, or even find out where he was.

He pulled against the freezing chains and looked around frantically for anything that might be of use. His feet were free, but the cell was barren. “Where am I? Why am I here?” He asked the guard, panic rising in his voice. 

She turned around and regarded him with annoyance. “Oh, you're up.”

“Who kidnapped me? What do they want? Why… why am I not wearing clothes?”

The guard rolled her eyes. “You ask too many questions. Best keep your mouth shut while the boss is around.” She walked away, undoubtedly to retrieve said boss. 

Charles looked around for a window, but there was none. So he was in a dungeon. Fantastic.

Another woman stepped in through a door behind the one in his cell. She was wearing a helmet similar to Erik’s, only this one looked more military. Charles noticed the guard was wearing one as well. “Hello, Professor,” she smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes.

“Why am I here?” Charles shook from cold and fear. The woman said nothing. She stepped into the cell and closed the door behind her. Charles scrambled to his feet. 

“Like the place?” She gestured around. “We’re underground, far away from any unprotected minds.” She tapped her helmet. 

“What do you want from me?” Charles demanded, “Why--”

“After all the people Magneto’s killed,” she raised her voice a bit, “Why did you take him in? He deserves to be killed painfully, but you deserve punishment too, and I think it would hurt him even more to see you take his place.”

Charles’s stomach dropped. She revealed a small camera from her pocket and pointed it at him. She took a picture and set it on a table by the door. Then she pulled out a knife and knelt down to him, the point on his chin. 

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, ah, that's enough questions.” The woman held the knife to his throat and gagged Charles with a piece of cloth. Her eyes were shining maliciously. She ran her knife from his shoulder, down his arm, to the wrist cuffs. When he winced away, she slashed his arm in sudden anger, yells coming from both of them. She struck again and again until his arm looked like someone was drawing tally marks on it with too much red paint. 

Then she drove the knife into his right knee. Charles screamed as the worst pain of his life shot up his leg and throughout his body. “Bad!” The woman shrieked, “More noise means more pain!” And she did it more, stabbing over and over until Charles’s pants were soaked with blood and his eyes watery. But finally he managed not to make a sound. 

“Good. I'll give you a break for now.” She wiped the blood off her knife and stood up, snapping one last picture. “I'll be back tomorrow. If you're still alive.”

Charles sank to the floor the second the woman shut the cell door. He didn't have time to worry about pain; only stopping the blood. He pushed his left heel into the other knee, hoping that would be enough to stem the flow. He was sweating despite the cold. His arms were numb from lack of circulation. 

The blood kept coming. Charles felt light-headed. He knew he'd have to stand up for his hands to reach his legs and tear off a piece of his pants to tie around the wound. With great effort, he pulled himself up. Once the makeshift bandage was finished, Charles passed out on the cement floor. 

~~~~~

Hank hooked Jean up to Cerebro. Of course, they were reluctant to seek out Erik like the note requested, but Charles was somehow shielded from them. They found Erik easily. Jean sent him a thought message telling him where to go for a peaceful meeting. 

They went to a café in town. The X-Men were all dressed in casual clothes, hoping not to draw attention. Erik wore a suit. 

“You'd better have a good reason for contacting me,” Erik growled as he sat down. “Where’s Charles?”

“That's what we're here to talk about,” Ororo bit her lip. “He's been kidnapped. The people who took him left these.” She slid the photos across the table and pointed at the one with the building. “You have any idea where this is?” 

Erik’s expression of shock hardened. “I'll find him. Let me know if there are any developments and I'll do the same.” He stood and walked out briskly, leaving the pictures on the table. 

~~~~~

Charles woke from a dreamless sleep to the rattling of his chains. Two guards unhooked them and lifted him by the shoulders, half carrying him because of his bad knee. They held him facing the wall, so his back was exposed and vulnerable. He could hear the clicking of a camera. 

The woman from yesterday spoke, “Good morning, Professor. Sleep well?” Charles heard a loud CRACK behind him. The crack of a whip. He struggled against his captors, but he had eaten nothing for over a day, and they were very strong. 

The first lash was poorly aimed. The whip grazed the back of his head and only stung a bit, but Charles could feel a trickle of blood down his neck. The next several tore through his skin. He clenched his teeth and balled his fists, but kept quiet. The last few were the worst, ripping the first wounds deeper. 

When the woman had had her fun, the guards reattached the chains, then dropped Charles to the floor. He waited until they all left and dissolved into a sobbing mess. There was no noise but his ragged breathing, and nothing to think about except the pain, cold, and hunger. 

~~~~~

Erik all but tore apart everything in his path to Charles. He knew where he was being held, but it was a long journey. Erik drove for twelve hours before stopping on the side of the road to sleep. He had sworn against flying ever since a nightmare nearly crashed the plane he was on. 

Those bastards. Himself, Erik could understand, but Charles? He gripped the steering wheel, imagining just how he would kill each and every one of them when he arrived. But that horrid photo of Charles… what were they doing to him right then, as he drove? What if the psychological damage was too much? Charles had a great mind, but one man could only take so much abuse. 

Erik pressed the gas a little harder. 

~~~~~

Charles stopped thinking. He passed out whenever the daily (Was it daily? There was no way to keep track of time) tortures ended, and excruciating pain didn't leave much time to think. They probably could have removed their helmets and Charles wouldn't have been able to do a thing. 

One thing They were not lacking in was creativity. They never hurt Charles with the same thing in two sessions. One day They branded him with a hot iron - leaving a small “M” on the back of his head, where the whip first struck - another day They dunked him in saltwater, and yet another They shot his feet. Maybe he was in hell. 

All the sustenance They gave him was a bottle of water every day or so - They didn't seem to care about keeping a consistent schedule. Charles chugged the whole thing once and vomited it back up. One of Them had to clean it up and thanked him with a concussion. He had to drink every drop carefully thereafter. 

Survive. That was all Charles’s brain said. 

~~~~~

In the days that Erik drove, he received no messages from the X-Men. Good, he thought, those assholes had allowed Charles to be taken. He wanted to speak to them as little as possible. 

Not a moment too soon, Erik arrived at the prison. He pushed back the horrid memories of this place and marched in, wielding two metal balls. The whole place was metal-free, but he could still destroy the locks on the doors. He killed everyone in sight; he knew the way. 

There was no elevator, only a ladder. Erik floated down the shaft, not even bothering to land gracefully in front of the cell. He threw open the door and before him was the most heart-wrenching sight he'd ever seen. 

Charles recoiled in fear. He was battered, bloody, and horrendously thin. Skin wrapped tightly around his bones and his hair was matted. Erik approached him slowly, so not to startle him any more. He reached out and touched Charles’s cold hand. Charles looked up and his eyes widened in recognition. 

“E-Erik?” Confusion crossed his face for a moment, and Erik prepared for the worst, but it didn't happen. Charles broke down and pressed his head to Erik’s hand, crying uncontrollably. 

“Charles,” Erik began cautiously, “You're in no condition to walk. I'm going to pick you up and take you home.” Charles hung onto Erik for dear life as he floated out of the prison, his metal spheres punishing every last one of Them. 

Erik thought at first to take Charles to a hospital, but the cold, confining building was too much for him, so Erik stitched him up himself. They sat together in the back of Erik’s car for a while, warming up and trying to relax their minds. Charles’s was still damaged, but at least he was still a bit stable. 

Now Erik faced another problem: getting Charles to the mansion. He couldn't possibly take a car ride that long, so Erik called and asked for the X-Men to send Kurt. Soon Charles was in his own bed again, but only Erik was allowed to be at his side. That was the only way he could be safe from Them.


End file.
